


Not an Outsider

by SpankedbySpike



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Gen, Spanking, belt, teen!chesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpankedbySpike/pseuds/SpankedbySpike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Angsty Teenager Sam is pushing both Dean's and John's buttons and end up getting the attention he needs, just a different type of attention than the one he had hoped for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not an Outsider

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes:  
> I had a hard time finding the right tone for the fic and the right misdeeds, but discovering the voice of Sam teenaged’ angst and John’s difficulty in living through it (with colorful language and all) was actually amazing. It got me thinking of the family dynamics in whole different ways, remembering through discussions with angelus2hot how hot headed we all were in our tweens and teens and how rough and unpolished our relationships with our siblings were at times. So, I hope this fulfills the hopes of the prompter and that you all will enjoy the read.

Title: Not an Outsider  
Author: Spanked by Spike  
Implement: Hand and Belt  
Characters: John spanks Sam, Dean, mention of Caleb  
Words: 5406  
Prompt: (6) So teen!chesters…Sam’s been REALLY bitchy. He feels like no one listens, no one cares. NOT EVEN DEAN! - Maybe Dean has backed Dad up on something. Sam really should have done x y or z and Dad’s anger is justified. Dad corrects him, tries to be understanding. Dean backs Dad up. Sam takes advantage of it and once again refuses to do x,y, or z. “I’m 15…I know how to research or shoot a gun or salt and burn or whatever." Then Dad loses his shit and whumps him. Dean has very little pity. “Shoulda done it lil’ brother” and that frustrates Sam. Happy ending though, with Sam admitting to himself he shoulda listened.  


 

NOT AN OUTSIDER by SbS

“Little fucker! Sam, you’re gonna pay!” Dean was already rushing up the stairs ready to kick his brother ass.

“Dean, language, please.” John was in the kitchen working on reheating the pizza he got them, when he saw his first born zoom in the house and barely notice anything else, drowning in anger. Not that he doesn’t remember the days of angst and irritation he went through in his own teenage years but this is reaching the point of ridiculousness. He can’t recall the last time when they were all living in peace, that’s a relative term of course, but, still…

The crash that followed told him his sons found each other and were ducking it out. He wouldn’t intervene except if they break furniture that they’d have to replace, after all any physical activity is good activity in his book. John longed for the days of harmony though, were his two sons thought the moon and the sun, and even the stars hung on the other’s shoulder. Good Times!

 

The brawl had started in the shared bedroom but seem to have moved to the hallway. With his fortune, they’d end up falling and requiring a trip to the hospital, time to arbitrate then!

“Boys!” usually his thunderous voice was enough to make things happen. As it is, they both raised their heads to look at him but none gave any leeway in the holds they had on the other or showed any disposition to stop their fight. Well then, he’d get physical too. Cuffing Dean on the back of his head, he bent low enough, to pick Sam by his shirt and nudge Dean away. He was still on one knee looking at Sam when he felt the swish of air that accompanied the kick his youngest sent to the retreating form of his eldest. This was going to end in a spanking or two…

“Ow, Sam, what the heck?” Dean was outraged that his brother decided to kick him even though their dad was upon them already. It’s simply not done. Massaging his chin he looked at his father, indignation clear on his freckled face.

No more time for subtleties then, John growled “Sam, you have a death wish or something?” Well, Mary stubborn streak showed right there, in her young son gaze and attitude. He was clamping down, adding to the general furious mood in the household.

“Dad, he freaking exchanged my jacket for a book! I’m coming back from the store and looking at this kid with the jacket you gave m on his back. I’m ready to dock him and he’s telling me he got it fair and square from a twerp in school.” Dean was fuming and now standing ominously over the both of them, ready to get back into the fight.

“Son, go downstairs and wait for me in the kitchen, okay?” John stare did not bear anything less than full obedience, so trembling with suppressed rage Dean stomped down the stairs and rummaged on the fridge for a drink; the whole thing loud in the silence that followed his departure.

“Sammy, tell me what’s happening.” John was already tired. Another argument in a long line of arguments, obviously his boys had too much time for themselves and not enough exercise…

“It’s true, I did it but Dean never wears that jacket anymore, it was already too small for him and it’s not my style, so why can’t I get something I like off that rotten deal?” His son was sniffing a bit, holding back tears from the stress and endorphins running in his blood.

“I get that son, but it’s also one I gave him and you must know that he would be attached to it.”

“I thought, he had forgotten about it and in any case I got something more valuable for it. You always say not to keep stuff we don’t need and travel light.” Sammy accusing tone went straight through John. “So, now, it’s my fault, you’d steal from your brother?” Great, let’s insult the stellar parenting style while at it…, that kid has no sense of self preservation!

“No Sir. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m sorry. I should have talked to both of you about the book, you always help, even though its begrudgingly.” He shoved his fist to his eyes trying to stop the tears from flowing; you could see his whole body deflating now that things were settling.

“I don’t know Dad, it’s like I hate everything Dean does. I hate how sure he is of anything, how he always get the girls and rub it in, how he gets all this time with you fixing the Impala and I don’t do nothing fun anymore. It’s not right!” Sam was now crying, folded on himself, knees encased by skinny arms. John didn’t have the heart to punish his baby, however, this couldn’t keep happening. Putting his arms around the boy he whispered. “Okay Sammy, let’s get to the kitchen and apologize to your brother and then we will see how to make it up to him. You wouldn’t have all these issues if you were working with Dean instead of against him Sam. Just try for fuck sake!” Their father wasn’t above a few good swear words for emphasis, and that made Sam smile. Yeah he could do it. It’s not exactly resolving all his problems, but he ended up with a new book he really wanted, why not be nice to his brother.

They went down the stairs, his father using the dish clothe in his hands to march him forward with pointed flicks of his wrists stinging his behind but nothing like the spanking he had earned. Sam had to be thankful for small favors…

 

*** *** ***

 

“Dean, what the fuck?”

“Again? What is wrong with you?” Sam couldn’t stop himself. Another idiotic order from his father, in a long line of stupid ones, Sam just couldn’t take it anymore. “Dad, I’m not going to bed at 8 on a Saturday! I’m not a kid anymore; I’ll be fine researching with you.”

Son of a bitch, the kid can’t keep quiet some days. “Sam, I always have you in mind… My orders are simple and not up for discussion.” John was exhausted, days of research and an early departure the next morning… He was already living on caffeine and hoped for the adrenaline to kick in, Sam had definitively helped from that standpoint.

He wasn’t feeling like dishing discipline, but Sam was marching with gusto towards a wonderful finish: a blistered bum, hot enough to roast their dinner… John couldn’t wait for the grand finale, just not the fuck today!

 

*** *** ***

 

The night was dark, no moon; stars too far away to make a difference, and the cover of the forest so heavy you could get easily lost, here and in your soul. This is the kind of place where people sold themselves for a little happiness and a whole lot of trouble.

Sam was excited. He had found the exact moment the Demon would be here and he so wanted to prove to his dad and sibling that he wasn’t a dead weight, he could do his part and outsmart them and a stupid demon. Of course, to do so, he had to ‘borrow’ the Impala. That alone was a death sentence so he had to make sure he knew what he was doing.

Sam reviewed his notes, checked the map one more time and then proceeded to hide the Impala under the overgrowth on the side of the road. He had been so happy to learn to drive the family car last summer when both his dad and his brother had taken turns to teach him about the intricacies of driving the huge American classic. Today, he was alone until about 1 am, everyone else was dealing with a ghost on the rundown area of downtown and he decided to get on his first simple vanishing spell right there on the rural outskirt of their town.

The car was now on the side of the road, almost in the ditch. Sam closed his eyes and started reciting the spell in his head, verifying that he could say it fast or slow depending on the need. Reassured, he checked on the bleak light from the dashboard that he had all the potions and herbs needed and then decided to wait for midnight. He had just turned fifteen, and the feel of his body almost to Dean’s size taking in a spurt growth he hadn’t anticipated, was heady. He felt like a man, one that could contribute to the Family business, as an equal and not as the baby of the family.

Of course, that was before it all went down the proverbial drain. Tossed all over the dirty ground by a pissed demon, his clock cleaned, his breath labored, his hands and knees scraped, how the fuck would he get out of this. Backing up from the swirl of fallen leaves left by the disappearing spirit, Sam tried again to recite the spell, squinting his eyes for concentration, even sending a little prayer to any heavenly entity that listened to help because he sure needed it. A moment later, he was thrown again in the air, falling awkwardly on his side; Eyes noticing the headlights coming straight at the field and blissfully passing out, able to forget that blinding new pain.

 

*** *** ***

 

“Sam! Sammy! Wake up son!” the voice was distorted, he couldn’t make out the details, overwhelmed by the shards of glass piercing his skulls, the sounds so loud and foreign he couldn’t figure out what was happening. The young Winchester would have given anything to just be left alone, sleeping his pain and worries away.  
John was beside himself; his son probably had a concussion and he tried again to wake the passed out teenager.

“Sam, come on. Please, Sammy, open your eyes!” John had already checked his son’s vitals; he was ok, so why wasn’t he waking up? Dean would freak out if John went back to Caleb’s truck with his little brother unconscious in his grasp. There wasn’t much more to do here though, so he took his boy in his arms and with some difficulty carried him back. The boy had grown again, still light but about as big as Dean, making carrying him like he used to not as easy a feat anymore. John would carry him to the end of the world and more if he needed to though, the straining muscles not even reacting in his mind, his whole focus on getting his Sam back and understanding what the heck happened.

He just made it to the truck, settling his son, in the back seat when Dean came back running. “Dad, dad, the Impala is there.” He was trying to get back as soon as possible and yelling the info. John had now a better idea of things, Sam obviously drove the car here; but for what purpose?

“Dad” John swiveled back to look at a groggy Sam coming about, with an extended arm behind him to settle Dean and keep him quiet.

“Sam, you’re okay?” He lowered himself back in the truck to help his son struggling to seat correctly.

“Dad, you did it! You got the demon!” John blanched. What the heck was his son taking about, he was here with a demon?

“No, Sammy, we must have been too late. We caught a slumped form against the tree and just decided to investigate. That was you!” the hunter explained, trying to stay calm enough for all the Winchesters.

“Oh… Did I vanquish the Demon then? Did the spell work?” Sam was eager to claim victory. It was exhilarating and so incredible; all the crap he went through earlier was now completely forgotten.

“Sam, let’s get you home, you can explain everything there. Dean, can you drive the Impala back?” John was furious, Sammy didn’t get his smarts by accident, and he could put two and two together and was ready to kill (figuratively) his son for this stupid stunt.

Upon hearing Dean whispered agreement, he nodded to Caleb his readiness to go and shut down, completely refusing even the concept of small talk, seating in the back with an arm around his teenage son, trembling as much as him, for reasons completely different but yet with a similar relief. They were together, they were safe, everything was all right.

Well until the upcoming spanking obviously…

 

*** *** ***

 

Dean had arrived first, fresh salt lines were laid everywhere, the light was on, and a semi open bottle of water was on the table next to his first born. Sam was trotting behind John, tired but happy not exactly sure how the next hour was going to play, but happy to be able to present his case to his family, he could join them on the hunt!  
John sat on one of the chair and called on his son.

“Are you hurt? What exactly were you hunting, Sam?”

“Oh dad, it was amazing, let me show you my research.” And Sammy went to his bag and began to pull out the paperwork, bringing his written spell from the pocket of his jean. Eager to deflect the attention from his scratches and booboos, he was a man now!

Dean leaned closed to his father to look over the papers and he felt like getting sick. What the fuck was his brother doing? This was too much for a first hunt without any backup. He was going to kill Sammy. For all of Dean’s outrage, John’s anger grew in parallel amount. Sam was in for it, this was simply ridiculous!

“Sam, You had no business hunting alone, you had no right not to tell me you had a suspicion this demon was here and there is no way you are thinking that I would condone anything like this.”

“But Dad, I found the right spell, it was okay.” Sam was breathless trying to say his piece before things turned sour here.

“So, why were you passed out on the side of the road? Undress right now, I want to assess your injuries.” John wasn’t in a mood to be assuaged; the whole week had been a pain with his son, the buck stopped here.

“I’m fine, I said!” his son responded with petulance.

“You show me you’re fine. As for what you say it has no value at this moment, so don’t waste our time and get the hell moving!” There was only so much time John could hold back.

Sam removed his shirt, and with more bravado than he felt, dragged his t-shirt over his head and winced behind the fabric, aware of some bruises.

Hid dad and brother were silent. Just looking at him, and the ribs painted blue on his left side… The silence dragged.  
“I’m okay, a little Tylenol, some ice and I will be right as rain.”

“Shut up Sammy!” Dean growled and that was quite frightening. He never sounded as much like Dad. Now Sam was seriously concerned, each member of his family was looking at him like he had grown a new head.

“Guys, you’ve all been banged up more than I am. It wasn’t dangerous.” Whispered Sam. Now looking at his feet seemed like the right thing to do.

“Well, get a shower and get to bed. Dean will bring you an ice pack. I’ll deal with you at wake up, 6.00!”

The fuck? It’s 2 am and the man wanted to play drill sergeant in less than 4 hours? Sam headed up to the bedroom to pick up fresh clothes, tomorrow was just a few hours away, he needed to rest cause if he knew his family, his ass was definitively grass in the morning.

 

*** *** ***

Morning came too soon. With bleary eyes, Sam faced his family who oddly enough appeared wide awake and ready to tackle the day ahead: where is the justice in that?

“Boys, I want you to do some warm up exercises in the living room and run the two miles course around the house we’ve established when we arrived. I’ll be expecting you here in 30 mn.” John was sharp but relatively laid back, the journal spread in front of him, the gaze clear and the tone sweet.

Dean and him already wore their sweats so, it was easy to get in the other room and start stretching, the push ups were a piece of cake (when not used as a behavioral deterrent by their father) and soon the brothers headed out.

“What the fuck Sam?” These were the first word addressed to him by his sibling since the debacle.

“Come on Dean, I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done, so quit harping already.” The running pace was good, so they could talk without too much exertion.

“Why didn’t you talk to me? Made sure, I could help? It’s not like we couldn’t have tried a hunt when Dad was gone…” Hearing his brother complain, Sam wasn’t sure what his deal was. Was Dean upset, he didn’t work things out with him or that he had hunted?

“Bro, you are dad’s boy wonder, you can’t do no wrong. I wanted to do things on my own.”

Dean stopped so abruptly Sam was few paces away by the time he realized his brother wasn’t with him. He turned back and saw the appalled look on his big brother face and felt bad for moment. Dean just turned around and went the opposite direction.

“Fuck” Sam needed all the friends he could get before facing his father and antagonizing Dean wasn’t the smart thing to do, in particular knowing that Dean had gotten into his share of misfits and paid the price for it, sometimes with interest…  
He finished his run and wasn’t surprised to see his brother running on the spot at the turn of the road waiting for him.

“Dean, I’m sorry…”

“Shove it Sam, I don’t want to hear it. If you are so up your own ass you can’t see when people care for you then leave me alone.” Dean clamped down just as they opened the door to their home.

John threw them a jumping rope each and joined them back outside, jumping along them, easing himself into exercises pushed enough to be in the regimen of a boxer, keeping up with his sons that thought they could trick by feinting and all. It was all done in good spirit and soon all three Winchesters were sweating, ready for a break and a cold bottle of water.  
As Dean claimed first shower, John started preparing fresh coffee and called Sam to the kitchen.

“Sammy, what you did last night was stupid. You gave me my first white hair son!” John had definitively calmed down so Sam let a crooked smile form on the corner of his mouth even though he stayed silent.

“Sam, there wouldn’t be a thing in the whole wide world that will make me more happy than to know that any of my sons can stand in a fight with a demon and win. Each and Every time. However, no matter how well I prepare you, your first hunts have to be in an environment that assures me you are still safe and protected. If you were to get seriously hurt or worse, I could not go on, boy. You need to understand that no matter how much I ride you and your brother it is because I’ve been bested by plenty of monsters out there, and I’ve learned from my mistakes. I simply want you as prepared as possible.” It’s not often that John E. Winchester explains himself, it did put few things in perspective for Sam, just not everything…

“Dad this may be true, but will you ever stop treating me like a kid, like a baby incapable of doing my share?”

“Sam, you are our baby. How do you think you being hurt will affect your brother? Me?”

“Well, I want to be a partner; you ought to let me grow up!” His petulant child did have a point, John didn’t know exactly how that was going to play it but he supposed he’d have to show his respect for some of Sammy’s suggestions. Just not now.

“Be as it may, son, you don’t break a curfew and go behind our back for a fucking solo hunt. You want your spanking now or when Dean is done with his shower?”

“Is there another option? I can be grounded…” Sam suggested eagerly.

“You’re out of marbles or what? That would be a reward… You, alone, your books… I’m not that stupid!” John had to laugh at that suggestion instead he moved one of the chairs out of the way and sat on it. “Well, give me your belt and drop your pants, and don’t make me ask twice…” Well, Sam was ready to ask… What the heck? The belt? His belt? But, he wasn’t suicidal, at least he could keep his trunks, so without further ado he decided to submit to his butt warming and hope against all hope it would be over before Dean reappears.

Things didn’t quite go as he wished.

First, the peppering of love taps over his ass were much stronger than his dad assumed. Honestly, with each slap he was pushed forward relying solely on the strong hold his dad had on his waist to stay in position. How that could be described as warming up love taps, he wondered. Of course, he wasn’t going to complain; just on the odd chance the old man had more strength in him. However, by the fifth he couldn’t hold his grunts, by the fifteenth, the yelps and by the thirtieth his pleas. The water in the shower had stopped running, so Sam started praying these proceedings could get a bit rushed, prayer he changed in a heartbeat when the next spank hit his tenderized derriere.

Man, this roasting hurts! “Dad. Stop! I’m sorry okay?” John couldn’t believe his son was trying to influence the spanking and determine what was enough… “I’m glad you are sorry son… I’ll let you know when it will be okay…” and with that, his father started to apply himself to the task and Sam finally let his tears fall down. Every time his Dad hand connected with his backside he thought, he’d die. The pain was so vivid, the throbbing so intense, he didn’t believe he could take anything more, and yet, more was to come.

Sam couldn’t breathe, between the tears, the apologies and the runny nose, he regretted everything wrong he had ever done and still his father wouldn’t stop. And then the bathroom door opened, and he thought he’d die a second time…

Crumbling in front of his 'tough as nail' brother hadn’t been part of the plan, he hiccupped, hoping to get a handle on his emotions and his humiliation but that was crushed by his dad next order. “Sam, stand up, please.”

Dean shuffled to them, whistling his appreciation of Dad’s thorough work. “Wow, you’ve lit on the kid, haven’t you?”

“Well son, as you know, there is no reason to repeat the same lesson twice… You either make your point or you don’t!” John was a little breathless, he did not really hold back and his palm was tingling, his other forearm cramping due to the tight hold he had on his teenager.

Still, he was pleased with the outlook so far. The shorts couldn’t stop the heat radiating from the punished butt and the crying coming from his baby was proof he had done his work well, it was a testimony to his dedication to a good education, really!

Now, time to complete the punishment. He helped Sam standup and held him into a tight hug, conscious of the fact his son was making a mess of his t-shirt but, the thing was going to the washer anyway...

It’s not like he enjoyed the spanking he had to dish, but with the two boisterous boys in his hands, he had to acknowledge, it did some good to nip things in the bud and start things fresh without angst or resentment. He had wished in the past to be able to be immune to the cries of his kids when they were spanked but he had also decided that he shouldn’t be spared the hurt. He did not discipline his kids because he was an abusive bastards, he disciplined them because he needed them safe and sound. And if they came to the point he needed to be physical with them then he needed to suffer as much then, he had failed along the way too…

“Shh, Sam. Just one more thing and we are done.” John tried to steel himself for the last thing to do.

Sam was flabbergasted. More?

“Get behind the chair and hold the seat as tight as you can. You’ll be getting 10 with your belt for driving the Impala!”

Oh Fuck, he had forgotten how that car was the real baby of the family, and also the fact he had driven it on real roads without supervision, and was only fifteen… Yep, they wouldn’t have forgotten that detail…

He folded himself over the back of the sturdy chair and held on for dear life, because with the blistering he just received he couldn’t imagine how those licks would feel. Tears continued to run on his blotched face even though his eyelids were screwed tight. But, he was at peace in a way cause now he knew the ordeal was almost over.

“Dean and I have been wronged and worried sick, Sam. I won’t hold back, and I trust you will have more faith in us and work with us instead of falling in your own-made pit of despair and fuck around.”

Oh, man, his dad had a knack for humiliation, didn’t he?

“I’m sorry Dean, I’m really am.” He managed to get out when his big brother kneeled in front of him. Dean had felt the fiery licks of a belt before and he was sure his brother had no clue about the pain he was about to experience. He smiled to him and reached out for Sam’s fists surrounding them in a show of support. He then looked up at his dad, aware of the mist in the brown eyes and nodded slightly.

The first hit fell, and boy was that the most awful thing Sam had ever felt. There was no thinking about Dean, his Dad or any misdeed, everything in his mind went blank and then focused with a new sharpness into the white hot pain that settled on the back of his thighs. He was going to holler anytime now but just couldn’t get any sound out of his constricted throat. That was fixed with the second stroke, he yelled. That’s how much that stupid belt was hurting now. Of course the pissed off brother that still took the time to squeeze his hands would warrant that type of punishment, in all honesty Sam was a prick to Dean the whole month… I deserve this and probably a bit more… but who’d feel in a giving mood right now and volunteer more spanking? Only a fool! The third stroke was the most painful, it landed almost on top of the last one and his hands were scrabbling against the seat of the chair; staying bended was part of the punishment, a way to show a conscious acceptance of the various wrong doings and the need for penance, that thought was gone too though with the fourth stroke, the belt biting deeply on the tense muscles, sending a shockwave through the bend body but blessfully quickly followed by the fifth and last kiss of the leather belt for now.

Sam was sobbing, not mad at his brother or father, not really mad at the situation, just eager to finally put this behind him and never find himself in that position again. Through his matted hair falling haphazardly around his face, he noticed again his brother squatting in front of him.

“You are okay Sam? You can take the rest of your spanking?” he asked. That was just so typically Dean. Concerns for his little brother will always override any and all others. Sam grabbed his hands and nodded as best he could because there was no way, he’d be able to get his five remaining licks without the moral and physical support.

John stood behind his son, proud of him for taking the licking but also aware that he was getting a support Dean rarely got when being disciplined. On the few occasions Dean needed a spanking, he realized with a blinding clarity that things had been harder on his eldest and not always because the spankings themselves were harsher…

As for Sam, a hand spanking and ten strokes of the belt wasn’t that big of a deal versus finding him gone or passed out on the side of a country road; of course the spanking had been fast, not leaving time to recuperate or realize it was really few minutes of major heat but nothing earth shattering. Well, he had five of the best to make the distinction and be sure his son wouldn’t rush to do anything that dangerous ever again. Standing at the opposite side of where he had been, to make sure the blunt effect of the folded belt didn’t curl in the same spots and protect his son from bruising, he let his hand fly and the first wicked lash of the small belt went diagonally over the first ones, reigniting the fire simmering there. Sam rose on his tiptoes before settling back; Sure there was no reason to prolong the chastisement but must he go for the killer shot right away? Obviously, yes, because the second lash came in the opposite diagonal. Sam jumped, only the entwined fingers of his brother held him in place, he just needed to hold his backside, massage the freaking pain away, anything...

John put his free hand on Sam’s back to ground him and soothingly added “almost done Sam, you are doing fine.” And as quickly he let the belt whistle down on his fiery buttocks in three quick successions, knowing the pain will be intense but also will blend instead of dragging the punishment and its effect.

Sam had never been stripped before; he sure as hell hoped he wouldn’t be again. His swollen and redden cheeks and thighs protested the movement as he tried to stand up and only the squeeze of his big brother fingers helped him focus on the fact it was finally over. He stood slowly, feeling the raised welts throbbing and looked at the proud smile on his brother face before ending enfolded in his father bear hug.

He didn’t have any tears left to cry, his voice was hoarse, his fingers had a hard time holding the t-shirt of his Dad to stay upright but he didn’t have to worry himself his father was holding him tight.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson boy, because no matter what you think, punishing you like this was as hard on us as it was on you. Don’t make me go there again!” the sound was gruff in his ear but he got the message loud and clear.

“Yes Sir, no more joy rides for me… No more solo hunts, I promise.” Sammy voice was cracked but the heartfelt promised worked, and father and son disentangled. “Get to the shower and we will have breakfast ready when you are out.” Sam didn’t let this fall on death ears and gingerly went to get fresh clothes before closing the bathroom door behind him. He was so curious to see the marks left by this almighty spanking on his previously soft skin; as well he already was wondering if he’d look ridicule bringing his plate in the living room and eating from the sofa instead of seating on the hard chair at the kitchen table… Not really manly, but he was only fifteen years old, still the baby of the family, they wouldn’t be that mean to him, would they?

The End.

 

Thanks for reading and commenting

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Posted here (http://spn-spankings.livejournal.com/241174.html) as part of the 2011 Holiday Fic Exchange at [info]spn_spankings  
> Can also be found at my LJ http://spankedbyspike.livejournal.com/20645.html


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